Worth His Time
by Arnith87
Summary: On a Valentine's Day years after the second war, Severus Snape learns that sometimes much can be gained by attending a horrid social event.


Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just having fun with someone else's characters. =)

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**Worth His Time**

In his not-so-humble opinion, the Great Hall was a disaster. Gone was the regular arrangement. As it stood, round tables covered in cream and pink linen, adorned with floral arrangements and golden glitter, encircled the hall. Precisely pruned topiaries stood about in various locations, cover for what would no doubt be distasteful displays of affection by the end of the night. The charmed ceiling had showed the sky of calm mid-summer's nights and Flitwick's latest charm had softly glowing orbs floating about. Fire faeries the Charms professor called them, he believed. Or something similarly ridiculous.

Tonight was the night of the annual celebration of Saint Valentine's Day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Since the school's reconstruction post-second war, alumni and guests had been invited to celebrate their lives and loves together. He watched from the edge of the room as couples turned about the floor, singles mingled by the open bar and refreshments buffet, and friends caught up at the flamboyant festooned tables.

It was only natural, particularly given so many in attendance had been terrorized by a sociopath five years prior, that a celebration of the happiness life offered should be so clearly cherished. If he was feeling benevolent he might have admitted, at least to himself, that Headmistress McGonagall had organized nothing less than a tastefully romantic social of epic proportions. But such was not to be.

Severus Snape, exonerated spy and retired Potion's professor, could not fathom how he had been convinced to attend this…exercise in frivolity and public displays. While he now lived comfortably and could socialize pleasantly, if distantly, with others, he had never lost the resentment he always discovered within himself at such events. Truthfully, the feeling might better be named loneliness, but he refused to dwell on such notions. He hadn't lived his forty-four years alone only to succumb to such maudlin thought.

The Valentine's Ball was quickly becoming tiresome, but he had promised Minerva he would remain for the whole evening. Idly, he noted that there were twenty-three minutes till midnight. Twenty-three minutes between him, his favorite chair before the fire, and his Firewhiskey. A short wait. Pleased, he leaned back against the wall and returned to observing the other guests. It was then that she came into his peripheral vision.

Hermione Granger. The war had ravaged them all, but she and her two misguided friends had worked hard to live the lives they deserved after their violently burdened formative years. She had taken an apprenticeship with Vector as Mr. Potter became a Quidditch star and Mr. Weasley an Auror. She had been a troublesome child but he no longer held it against her. Everyone grew up, some far too quickly. It was something he felt they both agreed on.

They had grown accustomed to one another during her apprenticeship. He had still been teaching, then. One day the young woman had simply arrived in his office unannounced and sat down to discuss her work as it might relate to potions. He had not appreciated the intrusion, but despite his protests, she had continued to show up once a week. Over time, he even grew to enjoy her company.

They always referred to one another formally, but truthfully he felt their meetings had been time spent among intellectual equals and friends. (Not that he had much experience with those). And he could only guess how she had felt about their appointments. While she never missed without advanced notice during her apprenticeship, their meetings came to an end once she received her Mastery and left Hogwarts.

Hermione Granger was now a Mistress of Arithmancy and gainfully employed. She did write occasionally, as she wrote all her former professors it seemed, according to Minerva. He even wrote her back occasionally. Tonight, however, was the first time he had seen her in two years. While he had enjoyed his retirement and prospering home potions business, Ms. Granger had grown into a fine woman, he noted. Dressed in a flattering black dress, the unruly curls that had always plagued her somewhat restrained, she walked with a purposeful step toward him.

"Professor Snape," she said when she reached him.

"Severus, if you please, Miss Granger," he responded drily. "I no longer wear the robes of a teacher."

"As I can see," she commented with a glance at his attire. "You must call me Hermione, then, Severus. Happy Valentine's Day."

"Indeed, Hermione."

"I noticed you seem to have separated yourself from the festivities," she offered, undeterred by his closed response.

She smiled as she spoke, meeting his eyes with a warm, clear gaze. He couldn't recall the last time an attractive, intelligent woman had looked at him so. Unbidden, he felt excitement and nervousness rise in his chest. It seemed he had missed her company more than he acknowledged to himself in the past two years.

"As you know, I have never been one for frivolity," he announced, clamping down on the emotion that accompanied his realization. "However I find myself amused by the others guests," he added, nodding towards the dance floor.

That earned him a laugh as she followed his gaze. Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasly were engaging in a rather lascivious dance, if one could call it such, that had garnered the attention of many. Across the room, Lavendar Brown was dumping a glass of wine on Terry Boot, no doubt because Terry had attached himself to another buxom blonde while Lavendar spoke to a friend. To top it all off, Luna Lovegood was leading Harry Potter in a peculiar style of tango Hermione had never seen in her life.

"Fair enough," she agreed, attempting to contain the remaining laughter. "Draco and Ginny do seem to be enjoying themselves, as do those two watching them so intently.

At her pointed comment, he felt his lips twitch upward.

"It is a shame about Terry and Lavendar, though," she continued, "I thought that might have been a good match. But how about Harry and Luna? I've never seen a happier couple!"

Warmth suffused him as they settled into conversation not unlike they had two years prior.

"I believe Miss Lovegood does bring a certain pizazz to his life."

"She does. But enough about the happy couples," Hermione declared. "I've been hoping for a good dance since I arrived. The night's nearly over, and I've not had one that didn't include inebriation, crass behavior, or unparalleled arrogance."

She abruptly fell silent, and he knew she was considering whatever she meant to say next. Within a moment, she had turned to look at him directly

"Could you suggest a pleasant partner, Severus?" she asked with a shy smile.

Barely containing his surprised pleasure, he held his hand out to her.

"Certainly, Hermione."

As he led her to the dance floor, Headmistress McGonagall announced that this would be the last song before midnight struck and the night came to its conclusion. A waltz began to play, and he took her in his arms. Hermione was smiling at him as though he had just granted her a dear wish and, as they danced the floor together, Severus Snape felt a flicker of hope. This brilliant, beautiful, woman who knew his past, was interested in his company. And he could no longer deny what he had two years past: he was most interested in hers.

As the song came to an end, Snape brought them to a smooth stop and escorted Hermione to her things.

"Thank you, Severus," she said, her eyes shining brightly as she met his.

"It was my pleasure, Hermione," he told her as he helped her into her coat.

"Would you possibly be interested in drinks later this week?" she asked suddenly.

At his nodded acquiescence she continued softly.

"I have missed our conversations."

He tried to keep the roughness out of his voice as the flicker of hope he had felt during their dance unfurled into a warm flame.

"So have I, Hermione. So have I."

They walked together to the apparition point beyond the castle. With a shy touch of his arm, she told him she would owl him tomorrow just before she disapparated to her flat. As he, too, disapparated home, he thought of Hermione and their plans. And that perhaps soon waxing maudlin in his loneliness might be a thing of the past.

It seemed the Valentine's Day celebration had been worth his time after all.

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A/N: For my first foray into SS/HG, it seems a holiday was required to get me in gear and I'm glad it did. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!


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